


Ooh Baby

by NewLifeCrisis



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Blushing Percival, Crossdressing Kink, Crying Kink, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Male Lactation, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pregnant Sex, Rape Recovery, breast kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:12:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewLifeCrisis/pseuds/NewLifeCrisis
Summary: Basically me forcing all the kinks on poor Percy.





	Ooh Baby

**Author's Note:**

> This one really got away from me and ended up as over 8,000 words of self-indulgence. It's a bit of a mess, but I had to get it out before I lost my nerve. Percival is probably (definitely) OOC, but who hasn't been a victim of hormonal imbalance?  
> I'm also suffering from comment withdrawal-please feed my addiction.

**Grindelwald**

"Hello again, love," Grindelwald greeted Percival fondly. 

"No, no, not again, please," the other man whimpered, "you said you wouldn't be back for a few days at least." Percival was still sore from Grindelwald's last visit just the day before. 

Though the dark wizard had provided a small bed so his visits would be slightly more comfortable for them both, it didn't stop the throbbing pain that persisted from the Cruciatus curse, or ease the rawness of his backside after the sexual abuse. Grindelwald had never come to satisfy his sadistic hunger two days in a row before now though.

"You should be glad to see me, Percival," the blonde said in an eerily cheerful voice. "I have something new for us to try tonight, Director."

He produced a small vial of some kind of glowing blue potion and uncorked it.

"Drink it," he commanded.

"W-What is i-" Percival began, but was cut off by Grindelwald grabbing his jaw and pouring the liquid down his throat. He covered his mouth and nose until Percival swallowed.

"What the fuck did you just give me?" Percival spat.

"A fertility potion," Grindelwald said with glee as he pulled out his wand. "You see, I had a vision, my dear, in which you bore my child. It will be a son, as strong and clever as the both of us."

Percival gaped at the other man, feeling the potion begin to tingle in his stomach. "You're deranged," he managed. "I-I'm a man, I can't even get pregnant."

"Not as you are now, no. But I've done some research, and there are spells for anything and everything, Percival, you should know this," Grindelwald said, undeterred by his captive's growing horror.

"N-No, don't-" Percival protested before breaking off into a scream as Grindelwald cast a series of complex spells that made his insides feel as though they were being torn apart then seared back together with hellfire. He thought he could feel his very organs shifting inside him, and the sensation had him sobbing with fear and pain.

Percival must've passed out for a time, because when he next came to awareness, he was naked and Grindelwald was above him, cock erect and poised to violate him again.

Percival's protests came out weak and strained, his voice wrecked from screaming. He struggled desperately but fruitlessly against the cuffs chaining his wrists to the headrest of the bed. He tried in vain to keep his legs closed tightly, but Grindelwald had the leverage and strength to keep him spread wide open. He couldn't help the cry of pain and frustrated tears that escaped him when the man atop him pressed in roughly.

"Look at you, Director, writhing and moaning for my cock like the wanton little slut you are," Grindelwald sneered while thrusting cruelly into him.

"No, no, no, please, don't," Percival begged, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

Despite his pleas, nothing he did could stop his tormentor from coming inside him, filling him with his seed. 

Grindelwald pulled out abruptly, cleaned himself up, and turned to leave.

"See you tomorrow, Percy," he said over his shoulder, chuckling as he left his prisoner a debauched, crying mess.

Grindelwald fucked him every night for a week straight to "ensure that the potion and spell took," and then cut down to three times a week. 

It was almost a relief when a few weeks later, Percival awoke one day feeling incredibly nauseous and promptly vomited over the side of the bed. Not much came up as Grindelwald often "forgot" to feed him, but Percival knew with a sinking certainty what this meant.

Grindelwald came to visit later that day and wrinkled his nose at the smell, but then his eyes lit up with realization. He hastened to cast a diagnostic spell over Percival's belly and exclaimed, "Oh, Percy, we've done it, my dear!"

He vanished the mess on the floor, and in an admittedly impressive display, he extended and transfigured part of the room into a bathroom. The dark wizard then proceeded to break the chains keeping Percival spread-eagled on the bed. The heavy, magic-suppressing cuffs stayed on, however. 

Percival immediately sprang from the bed, making a desperate lunge for the wand in Grindelwald's hand. The other man easily caught him in a body-bind with a casual flick of his wand. Percival was shocked that when he fell to the floor, a cushioning charm seemed to be in place to soften his fall. 

"Now, now, Percival," Grindelwald tutted, as though scolding a naughty child, "I'm being so generous as to let you roam your quarters freely for the duration of your pregnancy. I won't do anything to jeopardize the health of our child, and I won't touch you unnecessarily, so long as you promise to behave. Understood?"

Percival's gut reaction was to lash out again, but he stopped to consider. He couldn't access his magic while in these cuffs, he had yet to figure out where he was being kept, and he really didn't think he could handle anymore abuse. He nodded reluctantly, and the body-bind released him.

"Very good, my dear," Grindelwald said smugly, "As an added bonus, I'll even give you two meals a day now. It wouldn't do for our son to go hungry, after all. Oh, aren't you excited, Percival? You'll look absolutely delicious swollen and heavy with my child."

Percival stared silently down at his belly, tears threatening to fall. His body wasn't his own anymore.

 

**Newt**

Newt stayed in New York for awhile longer to help with the aftermath of the Grindelwald fiasco because he couldn't bear to see Tina so distraught over her missing boss. Newt had also heard many wonderful things about the real Percival Graves from his brother, and he too was anxious to find the poor man. 

They found him relatively quickly in a silver-plated box on Mr. Graves's desk. Grindelwald had been strangely cooperative in revealing the Director's location, and had urged the Aurors to take good care of his prisoner. Upon breaking the wards and magical locks on the box, the rescue team was able to descend into the extended space and they came across a plain-looking bedroom. The bed sheets were rumpled, as though someone had recently been sleeping there. Newt heard a faint moan followed by the distinct sound of vomiting through a side-door. 

He pressed his ear to the door and called out, "Hello? Is that you, Mr. Graves?"

Another gag, then an audible swallow, before a weak voice responded, "W-Who's there?"

Tina pushed forward to speak through the door, "Mr. Graves, sir? It's me, Tina Goldstein. I'm here with a rescue team to get you out of here. Can we come in, please?"

They heard the toilet flush, then Mr. Graves spoke. "I-I don't want you to see me like this, Goldstein."

Tina had never heard her boss sound so shy and uncertain. "Sir, are you alright? We're here to help, we won't think any less of you, no matter what state you're in, sir."

A hesitant silence was the only response.

Newt spoke up gently, "Mr. Graves, I don't think we've met yet. My name is Newt Scamander. I believe you know my brother, Theseus?"

"Yes, yes, I do," Percival drew a shaky breath, nausea still threatening to overwhelm him. "He's told me a lot about you."

"All good things I hope," Newt said amiably. "Now, I've never met you before, sir, so I don't have any prior image of you to uphold, right? Do you think you might let me in to see how you are, Mr. Graves? As I'm sure Theseus told you, I've seen all kinds of strange and fantastic things in my line of work."

Percival considered this for a long moment. He really did desperately want to get out of here, and he couldn't do that by barricading himself in the bathroom.

"Okay, but just you, Mr. Scamander," he relented, opening the door a sliver.

Newt opened the door just enough to slip inside. It took great self-control not to gape at the sight of Director Graves, shirtless and hanging over the toilet, his belly obviously abnormally swollen. Judging by the thinness of his arms, and the slight protrusion of his ribs, it clearly wasn't fat. 

He knew he was staring, and forced himself to meet Mr. Graves's eyes. "Hello, Mr. Graves. It's nice to meet you, sir. Can you please tell me what's wrong?" Newt asked gently, crouching down to be eye level.

Percival groaned and wrapped an arm protectively around his belly.

"I-I, I-I'm," he struggled to bring himself to admit it aloud, but just ended up heaving again. He spat a mouthful of watery vomit into the toilet water. 

Newt studied him for a moment more. The concentrated weight gain, nausea, and there was a certain glow pulsing in Mr. Graves's skin beneath the green tinge in his face that reminded Newt of when his graphorn had been pregnant. Oh.

"Mr. Graves, may I touch you here?" Newt asked carefully, gesturing to his swollen belly. 

Percival nodded minutely, before gagging harshly into the toilet again. 

Newt palpated him gently, the way he would check on a pregnant mooncalf, and found that, yes, there was a distinct thrum of magical energy residing in Mr. Graves's belly. 

He nodded to himself, before announcing, "It seems fairly healthy, but I'm no expert when it comes to humans. Do you know how far along you are?"

Percival, grateful that he didn't have to admit it out loud, said quietly, "The last time  _he_  was here, he said it had been four months."

"Okay," Newt said slowly, "would you let a healer come take a look, Mr. Graves?"

"N-No! I don't want them to see me like this," Percival cried, tears leaking through his long lashes as he squeezed his eyes shut in shame. 

_He's pretty when he cries_ , Newt thought to himself, before mentally slapping his wrist in admonishment. Mr. Graves needed his help right now. 

The gasping breaths Percival took to stem the tears upset his stomach again, and he ended up dry heaving roughly.

Newt didn't hesitate to support the other man by his shoulders and rub his bare back soothingly. 

"Oh, Mr. Graves, I really think we should get you some help. You don't look very well, sweetheart," the Brit said gently, taking in Percival's pallid complexion and clammy face. With this much vomiting, he was surely dehydrated too. 

Percival managed to get his stomach under control, and knew that Newt was right. The healers would be able to give him potions to ease the symptoms, and he really did want to get out of here. He nodded his assent wordlessly, and Newt beamed charmingly at him.

"Excellent," the redhead told him and wet a towel to wipe Percival's face clean. He took off his own blue coat and wrapped it around Percival, the fabric barely enough to cover his protruding belly. "Alright then, I'll bring in only the healer, okay Mr. Graves?"

Percival nodded, staring down at the blue wool over his stomach. He glanced up shyly before saying, "Thank you, Newt, really. And please call me Percival."

Newt smiled and tucked Percival's sweat-damp hair behind his ear.

"You're quite welcome, Percival. I'll see you later."

 

**Tina**

The healers had been very hush-hush about the director's condition, but from what Tina saw of him as they carried him out of the enchanted box, he didn't seem too worse for wear. Nevertheless, he was to be hospitalized for an indefinite period, and Madam President herself had asked Tina to take his statement. So she found herself standing hesitantly outside Mr. Graves's hospital room two weeks after his rescue. 

Newt had gotten oddly attached to Mr. Graves in the past couple weeks, and was rumored to be found more often than not at his bedside. Tina was therefore, unsurprised to hear his voice tell her to come in when she knocked. 

Mr. Graves had a large basin perched in his lap, and Newt was combing his hair back for him and rubbing his back. Tina felt a strange twinge of jealousy at the sight of their closeness and familiarity. 

"Goldstein," Mr. Graves's rough voice startled her from those thoughts. "I was told you were coming to take my statement, yes?"

"Oh, um, yes sir!" she said, stepping forward and pulling out her pen and notepad. 

Percival set the basin on his bedside table and accepted a drink of water from Newt. 

"I think I'll be alright, Newt. You're welcome to stay," Percival assured the other man, seeing his worried expression.

Tina now saw her boss's torso in unobstructed view, and couldn't help but ogle at the visible swell of his belly beneath the hospital robe. Percival saw her staring, and sighed.

"Yes, Tina, as you can see, I've been quite changed by my captivity," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. "I-I'll try to recall as much as I can for your report."

And so he told them both about being drugged and captured, about waking up to see Grindelwald morphing into his own image, and about the torture and rape. He became very clinical and detached when he detailed how he was impregnated, and his hands were clenched tightly in fists by the time he finished speaking. 

Tina reached out to place her hand over his tensed one, and he flinched at her unfamiliar touch. She tried not to let the hurt show on her face as she quickly let go. 

"I'm sorry this happened to you, sir," she said tearfully. "Have you considered an abortion?"

He shook his head. "The healers think it would be too risky with my, erm, altered anatomy," he paused, then continued quietly, "and I'm not sure I could bear to."

She nodded, then met his eyes with resolve and assured him, "You have my support every step of the way, sir. And we'll make him regret ever touching you. If I have my way, he'll never see the light of day again."

He gave her a fragile smile and thanked her, "This is why I requested you be the one to conduct my interview, Tina. I knew you would never pity me. Thank you, Tina, your concern means a lot."

She blushed at the praise and cleared her throat. "Oh, yes, of course, sir. Um, oh, and Madam Picquery also requested I update her on your physical condition, if you're willing to share?"

"Yes, well, physically, there's not much wrong with me. The pregnancy appears to be progressing well, but while Grindelwald was otherwise preoccupied before you came to my rescue, the baby and I had no food for about four days. There should be no lasting damage, but the baby resorted to consuming my stores of magic to sustain itself, not to mention the suppressing quality of the cuffs I was in. So, for now, I am unable to use any magic until it regenerates. The healers are keeping me here until I regain use of my magic, and to monitor my apparently aggressive morning sickness. But, otherwise, I expect I'll be able to return to work in a week or two."

"What?!" Tina and Newt exclaimed simultaneously. 

"Percival, you can't be serious," Newt admonished. "The healers told you that there could be complications due to your anatomy, and that the morning sickness will probably last for another month or two! And don't you remember them saying you'll probably have too much pressure on your back and hips to stand for very long when the third trimester comes around?"

"Please, sir," Tina added, "I think the department will get by alright while you take some time off and-"

"My 'time off,'" Percival interjected, "is what got us all into this mess. No, I want my department put to rights by my own hand." 

He softened at their twin looks of concern. "Please just let me show them all that I can still do this."

Tina bit her lip and fiddled with her pen before meeting his gaze with wide eyes. "Okay, sir. I'll convince Madam President to sign off on it for you."

He released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and haltingly reached out to squeeze her hand. 

"Thank you, Tina." 

 

**Seraphina**

A hesitant knock on her office door interrupted her review of a new budget proposal. Seraphina looked up at her ornate clock. 11PM. Who could be coming to see her this late at night? She took out her wand and held it firmly under her desk. 

"Come in."

The door opened slowly, the person obviously uncomfortable entering the President's office. She set her wand down upon realizing who it was.

"Um, Madam President?" Tina squeaked. "I have Mr. Graves's statement."

"Yes, Ms. Goldstein, just leave it on my desk."

Tina shuffled forward and placed the file on a clear corner of the massive desk. She continued to hover at the periphery.

Seraphina raised an eyebrow, "Unless there was something else?"

"Oh, um, yes, well," Tina stammered.

"Ms. Goldstein," Seraphina sighed, "I have a lot of other work to get done."

"Oh, of course, ma'am! I just wanted to request on behalf of Mr. Graves, that you reinstate his position as director," Tina blurted out in a rush.

"Yes, I will be sure to tell him that his job will be waiting for him once he has recovered fully."

Tina fidgeted again. "Well, you see, Madam President, he was hoping to come back to work next week."

Seraphina looked up sharply from the documents in her hand. "Next week? I'm sure you're also aware of his condition by now, Ms. Goldstein. He won't be ready to return for several more months."

"I know, ma'am, and Newt and I tried to reason with him, but he, he feels like he's failed us," Tina continued passionately. "And I think he wants to prove to us, but mostly to himself, that he's still the same man he was before."

Seraphina scoffed, reminiscing about Percival's stubborn streak. "He doesn't need to prove anything to anyone."

"I agree, but you know better than most how difficult it is to change his mind. I think even some light desk duty would help him feel more like himself, though," Tina suggested.

Morgana help her, Percival had them all wrapped around his little finger. 

"Alright," Seraphina relented, "but on a two-week trial basis, with absolutely no field work of any kind, and he's banned from the office the minute he hits seven months, or as soon as the healers think his health is suffering."

"Oh, thank you so much, ma'am!" Tina gushed. "He'll be so happy to hear the news!"

"Well, he really has you to thank though, Ms. Goldstein. Now, I really do have work to do, and you ought to be getting some rest," Seraphina shooed her out.

Tina scrambled to the door, thanking and apologizing at the same time.

Seraphina shook her head fondly and returned to the budget proposal. Tina was a good kid.

 

**The Aurors**

The DMLE was awash with quiet excitement the morning Director Graves was set to return to work. Everyone had arrived early, cast cleaning spells until it was spotless, and replaced Mr. Graves's office to the best of their abilities. By now, word had got around about his condition, and Tina had told all the Aurors that Mr. Graves was likely to be very self-conscious about his appearance. The warning did not prevent the collective gasp as the director entered the department at exactly 8AM (the President had told him his hours were restricted to normal, yes  _normal_ , business hours). 

Percival blushed at the stares and and shocked expressions and kept his eyes fixed on where his shoes would be if his belly weren't overhanging his lower half. He had expected people to stare, but he hadn't expected to feel so much like a spectacle in a freak show. He was suddenly hyper aware of how ill-fitting his clothes were now. He'd worn his least tailored dress shirt, but even so, it strained against his bump, and hung loosely on his shoulders and arms. He had lost some weight and muscle mass during his captivity, and the morning sickness wasn't helping him gain it back. 

Deputy Director O'Brien was the first to break the silence by sincerely announcing, "Welcome back, sir. You look absolutely gorgeous by the way."

Percival's head snapped up at the non-sequitor, his blush spreading up to his ears.

"O'Brien!" Tina hissed reproachfully. 

"What?" O'Brien said dismissively. "I meant it! You're all thinking it too!"

Auror Fontaine piped up, "Well, I'll admit it's true. You're positively glowing, sir."

"O-Oh, I, um, thank you all," Percival managed, feeling uncharacteristically shy in the face of such praise. "It's good to be back."

He made to head to his office, eager for the sanctuary from all the attention, but Tina stopped him.

"Oh, sir, let me show you the additions we made to your office!" she said excitedly and took him by the arm. "So, we consulted with some mothers around the office, and with some Aurors whose wives have been pregnant for advice."

She opened the door to his office, and he was touched to see that they had obviously tried to arrange his desk and shelves to how he used to keep them. He was surprised to find, upon stepping into the room, that there was a door to the side of his desk that hadn't been there before. Tina moved forward to open it for him, revealing a luxurious bathroom complete with gleaming porcelain, soft towels, and fluffy bathmats. The hominess of this bathroom was in stark contrast to the clinically sterile one he'd been afforded during his imprisonment.

"We figured you wouldn't want to have to go all the way down the hall every time you need the bathroom, sir. And we stocked it with pregnancy potions from your healers," Tina explained. "Oh, but Madam President only allowed us to build it on the condition that we set up an alarm to alert us in the bull-pen if you need immediate help. Is that okay, sir?"

Percival nodded mutely, as he was afraid he would immediately break down in tears of gratitude the moment he opened his mouth. 

Wilkinson, one of the very few working mothers in the DMLE, pointed out more features they had added to his office. A comfy footrest for his swollen feet and ankles, a new chair saturated with cushioning charms that reclined at his will, and his formerly firm, leather sofa had been transfigured into one with overstuffed cushions and terrycloth upholstery.   

"The least we could do was make sure you were as comfortable as possible, sir," Wilkinson said, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.

Percival looked around the room, at the effort his team had put into every little detail, and at the sincere kindness on their faces. He was helpless to stop the tears that escaped, the swell of emotion threatening to burst inside his chest. He tried to utter his thanks, but all that came out was another sob. Damn these hormones making him cry at the drop of a hat. 

"It's okay, sir," Wilkinson told him, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "We know."

O'Brien gallantly offered his handkerchief, while Tina shooed everyone from the room to give Percival some privacy. 

"Take your time, sir," she said as she closed the door behind her.

 

**Queenie**

Although she acted the part of the ditzy blonde, Queenie's empathy and thoughtfulness extended beyond what her Legilimency could lend. That's why, on Percival's first day back on the job, instead of his usual scalding hot, bitterly dark brew, she brought him an herbal tea flavored with honey and lemon. 

He stared at the flowery, china teacup she presented him with, then looked up at her with big, doleful eyes.

"No, Mr. Graves," she said, her curls tossing as she shook her head, "you know you can't have coffee. It's bad for the baby."

The Director of Magical Security honest-to-Merlin pouted at that statement before grumbling a quiet, "Thank you, Ms. Goldstein."

"You're welcome, sweetie," she said brightly. Her smile dropped as she saw him shift uncomfortably in his chair, tugging at his shirt to adjust it. He was usually so strict about maintaining his appearance, but now, his shirt was ill-fitting, his waistcoat hung undone as it obviously wouldn't close around his belly, and it seemed even his dress pants were causing him discomfort. 

"Do you have any maternity clothes, Mr. Graves?" Queenie asked point-blank.

Percival blushed and stammered, "W-What? No, I don't need-"

"You do though, sweetie," Queenie insisted gently. "Your buttons look ready to burst any minute, now."

He hung his head, looking down at his straining shirt and asked in a small voice, "Where would I even get something like that for men?"

"Oh, honey, I'd be happy to make you some new clothes!" she exclaimed, eager to put her sewing skills to use. "You can come over to our place after work so I can take your measurements."

"I-I'd hate to impose, Ms. Goldstein," Percival said, his embarrassed blush persisting. 

"It's no trouble, really! You deserve some pampering, if you don't mind me saying so," she simpered sweetly. "And call me Queenie, okay?"

"Okay, Queenie, I'll take you up on your kind offer then," he conceded, flattered by her generosity.

"Great! Then see you tonight!" she called over her shoulder. "And drink your tea, Percival! Tina told me you've been sick all morning-you need the fluids."

Percival sighed and picked up the fragrant tea. Just great, now he had both Goldsteins fussing over him.

 

That evening, Percival awkwardly knocked on the Goldsteins' door after having snuck up the stairs past their landlady. He was immediately pulled into the apartment by a smiling Queenie and wrapped in an easy hug. 

"I'm so glad you came, sweetie!" she said sincerely. "Teenie's out to dinner with Newt, so it's just the two of us, okay?"

He nodded, thankful that she understood how uncomfortable he felt exposing himself to anyone these days. He shifted to remove his coat and suit jacket, but froze when he felt her reach up to undo his tie.

"Oh, sorry, honey," she apologized and quickly let go, "would you rather do it yourself?"

Percival swallowed hard and shook his head. He couldn't live in fear of everyone's touch forever. And it was Queenie, she'd never hurt him like that. 

Queenie studied him intently for a moment before continuing to help him undress. First the tie, then she pushed the waistcoat off his shoulders, and finally she began to undo the buttons of his shirt. 

He was squeezing his eyes tightly shut at this point, resisting the urge to slap her hands away. She saw his growing tension and paused again.

"Percival, are you sure you want this? We could do the measurements over your shirt if you want, sweetie. It's up to you."

"N-No, I want you to keep going," he declared, despite his voice shaking slightly. "I want to be able to do this."

"Okay," she nodded, then hurried to undo the rest of the buttons. She gently eased the shirt from his arms and folded it carefully to keep with his other clothes. "There, would you open your eyes please, sweetie?"

He hesitantly complied, hands tensed in fists at his sides. He opened his eyes to see his own reflection in a full-length mirror Queenie had conjured. His gaze went straight to the swell protruding from his abdomen, and he realized he hadn't really looked at his pregnant body like this before now. Queenie's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Still okay?" she asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror. She seemed utterly unfazed by the sight of him and his scars. She had her wand out, ready to start taking measurements.

He nodded his assent, and she raised her wand, tape measures snaking out of the tip of it to wrap around his torso. It tickled his sensitive belly.

The tape measures slithered back to her to report the final numbers, and she tutted, shaking her head. "Still too skinny. We'll have to work on feeding you up. Go ahead and get your shirt back on, sweetie, we'll do the pants next."

She went to the other room to get started on a new shirt, leaving him to gather the courage to take his trousers off in his own time. He managed it eventually, and tried not to stare at his pantless reflection in the mirror too much while waiting for Queenie to return. There were red indentations from where the pants and his briefs dug into his skin.

"Oh, honey," she said, sounding distressed on his behalf, "are your underwear uncomfortable too?"

He blushed scarlet at the shameless question, but nodded all the same. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't ask him to take off his underwear, too.

"It's okay, sweetie, just the trousers today," she replied to his thoughts.  In the end, she opted to just add some elastic to the waist of his pants, as the legs still fit well enough. Just as she was finishing up with that, the now-completed shirt came flying from the other room to land in Queenie's hand, seeming ecstatic just to be in one piece. Percival wished he could say the same.

She helped him change into the new shirt, smoothing her hands over his chest and belly. He shivered pleasantly at the gentle touch. The fabric was soft on his skin, unlike his usual stiff and starched dress shirts. 

"Ooh, you look fantastic, sweetie!" she cooed, admiring her handiwork. "What do you think?"

He studied his clothed self in the mirror, finally feeling more like himself in a set of tailored clothes. 

"I love it, Queenie," he replied with a rare smile. "Thank you, really."

"Of course, Percival." She took his hand and smiled back. 

 

**Seraphina Pt. 2**

Percival was seething by the time his meeting with the President rolled around. The day had started bad and only gotten worse. He had woken up to roiling nausea so strong that he didn't have time to make it to the toilet. As if starting the morning with cleaning up your own vomit wasn't bad enough, the smell of his own aftershave had set him off retching again. So he was running late for work. 

On top of that, Newt had begun insisting on walking Percival to and from work every day as he approached his sixth month of pregnancy. When Percival failed to meet Newt downstairs in the foyer at exactly 7:30AM, the redhead had taken it upon himself to barge into Percival's bedroom, wand at the ready, only to find the man in question standing shirtless as he struggled to pull his pants on. His state of undress and the suddenness of the intrusion had Percival teetering on the edge of a panic attack. Newt walked him to work in guilty silence later that morning. 

The day didn't get much better from there, as the morning sickness persisted well past lunchtime. As always, after every nauseous trip to the bathroom, an Auror would be waiting outside his office door with a cup of ginger tea and a warm hand on his sore back. And, as always, he felt guilty about taking their time and kindness, especially when Tina knocked on his door with a packet of crackers in hand and implored him with wide-eyed concern to "Please try to eat, Mr. Graves." She watched him eat, while he glared petulantly, until he had to admit that, yes, the crackers had in fact settled his stomach enough to have lunch.

To top it all off, he was plagued by an embarrassing tenderness in his chest. His chest (he refused to say breasts) had been swelling the past couple weeks, and now even his altered shirts felt uncomfortably tight in the area. Even leaning forward to reach some files across his desk sent a twinge of pain through his sensitive chest. The constant, unfamiliar pain wore on his already frayed nerves, and by the time Newt came by at 5PM sharp to walk him home, he could barely stop himself from snapping at the poor redhead when he asked if Percival had eaten today. 

"Yes, Newt," Percival responded briskly, "since everyone insists on treating me like a child who can't take care of himself."

Newt, ever-patient and used to Percival's moodiness, brushed off the jab and said levelly, "No one thinks that, love. We just want to help you. Now are you ready to head home?"

Seraphina entered his office without knocking, as she was prone to do, and replied for him, "Sorry, Mr. Scamander, Director Graves and I have to complete our quarterly review tonight."

She strolled in, stacks of folders in hand, and sat herself down on the sofa. She noticed the redhead peeking uncertainly at her, then eyeing Percival with concern. 

"I'll have him home by 9, Mr. Scamander, don't you worry," she assured him.

"You'll make sure he gets there safely and send me notice too, won't you?" Newt asked with surprising assertion. 

"Hey, I'm not some wilting flower in need of protection!" Percival protested heatedly.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Scamander," Seraphina replied, skillfully ignoring her Director's sass. "And Graves, get your ass over here so we can get started."

Newt, satisfied that Percival had someone to take him home, picked up his suitcase and bent down to kiss the other man's temple and whispered, "Get home safe, love."

Percival grumbled grumpily, but the pinkness in his cheeks belied how pleased he was. 

Once the door closed behind Newt, all semblance of professionalism between them disintegrated. Seraphina kicked off her high heels, and Percival yanked off his tie before carefully lowering himself onto the couch next to her. She passed him some files and they began their review. 

However, a few minutes into reading, Percival began to shift on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. He attempted several configurations, before settling with his feet propped on the armrest of the sofa, the file held upright against his belly, and his head resting on a plump pillow in Seraphina's lap. 

She sighed and said with mock formality, "This is highly unprofessional behavior, Mr. Graves," even as she brushed a hand through his hair to loosen it from its styling. 

He leaned into her touch and huffed out a sigh, "Shut up, Sera, I'm pregnant. I'm allowed." The familiar work and soothing touch succeeded in distracting the poor man from his sour mood.

She chuckled softly and returned to her reading. The review continued as it usually did, with both of them bitching about interdepartmental disputes before setting to resolving them, and drawing up proposals to present to the Senate next quarter. They were wrapping up one of the final items on the agenda, when Seraphina accidentally dropped a file on Percival's chest, eliciting a pained whimper she had never heard her friend make before. 

"Percival?" she asked, watching his face crumple in pain and not daring to touch him, lest she hurt him again. "What's wrong?"

"M-My chest," he choked out, "it's a little sore, is all." He lifted the file off his chest, which now that she looked, seemed unusually...plush.

She narrowed her eyes, studying him critically. "Did I hurt you, Perce? Do you need a healer?"

He gingerly rested a hand on his chest and scoffed, "Mercy Lewis, no, I'm fine, really, Sera. I told you, it's just a bit tender right now because, well, they-they're growing, you know." He couldn't meet her eyes after admitting it.

Oh. Yes, yes she did know.

"Oh, Percy, it's nothing to be ashamed of," she said softly, tipping his chin so he had to look at her. "It's all perfectly natural, alright?"

"I know, the healers told me this would happen. Doesn't make it hurt less," he said sullenly, tucking his chin down to avert his gaze again.

"Well, it just so happens that I might have a way to help with that," Seraphina said mischievously. 

"Really? How?" he flicked his eyes back up at her, hopeful.

Seraphina smiled primly and replied simply, "Breast massage."

Percival's eyes boggled at that and he stuttered, "W-What? You can't be serious! I don't even have b-breasts, Sera!" He was blushing fiercely.

"Oh? Then what do you call this, Percival?" she said nonchalantly, while lightly grabbing a good handful of soft flesh overshadowing his once enviable pecs. "You're not the first person to have sore breasts, Percy. Now would you let me help you?"

He hesitated for a moment, but knew it was a foregone conclusion. Despite it all, he trusted her implicitly, and let her know as much as he agreed to accept her assistance. She smiled genuinely at the easy trust and helped him take off his dress shirt.          

Now in full view of his exposed torso, she saw that his chest was most definitely swollen, his dusky nipples puffy and hard from the coolness of the air. She summoned some massage oil she knew was in his private bathroom (because she had put it there) and brought the fireplace roaring to life with a sweep of her hand. She warmed a dollop of the oil in her palm and quirked an eyebrow in question. He exhaled a puff of breath before nodding and closing his eyes. 

She started gently, barely putting any pressure into her touch as she spread the oil across his substantial mounds. He gasped from the initial contact, and she felt his chest jerk up into her hands. Seraphina pressed a little more as he began to relax under her hands, rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh. As the massage got deeper, she extended her touch to press into the muscles above his burgeoning breasts, knowing the soreness likely spread to there as well. With a wicked smirk, she brushed her thumbs lightly over his pert nipples.

"Ah!" Percival cried, surprising himself with the sound. His eyes flew open and focused on where she was caressing his nipples playfully and moaned, "Sera, please!"

She paused and asked seriously, "Too much?"

He shook his head, lolling against her lap, and said breathily, "No, not enough."

She laughed and obliged, tweaking his nipples roughly before continuing the massage when he started arching his back into her touch for more contact. She could see through his pants that he was half-hard just from the teasing. It wouldn't be the first time they had pleasured each other, but a quick glance at the clock revealed that they were half an hour past when she had promised Newt to have the director home. 

"Would your boyfriend be jealous if he saw this, Percival?" she purred, slowing her massage.

"Boyfriend?" he murmured sleepily, her fingers lulling him into a boneless heap.

"Yes, the younger Scamander. He's been taking care of you all this time, you know. He kissed you on the forehead right in front of me for Morgana's sake!"

Percival squirmed a bit, and muttered, "He's not my boyfriend though."

Seraphina's expression softened at that, and she gave his nipple one last pinch before saying, "Well, boyfriend or not, I gave him my word. Now let's get you home, Perce." 

 

**Newt Pt. 2**

At seven months pregnant, Percival was irrefutably banned from the Woolworth Building by order of the President herself. The healers suspected Grindelwald had done something to accelerate the pregnancy, because the baby was developing much quicker than it normally would. As a result, Percival found himself essentially bed-ridden at seven and a half months due to the strain the accelerated development put on his body. 

Newt had moved in with him the day Seraphina forcibly put him on maternity leave. It was a good precaution, as the baby seemed intent on sucking Percival dry of both his magical energy and his body's nutrients. The poor man was often too fatigued to do more than sit up in bed for meals or waddle to the bathroom, leaning on Newt to ease the pressure in his back and hips. Newt did everything he could to keep the other man happy and healthy, including meal prep to suit his nutritional needs, back and foot rubs, and whispering sweet nothings about what a good father Percival would be when he was too uncomfortable to fall asleep. 

The redhead had also been sure that Percival knew it was perfectly acceptable to ask for anything that might make this easier for him. So he supposed he had it coming when Percival requested Seraphina come over to massage his now ample chest again. His breastmilk had come in, and they constantly felt painfully full and sensitive. And he missed feeling a kind touch on his skin.

Newt pursed his lips and frowned.

"Oh? And when did the President have the pleasure of fondling your lovely chest?" he asked lightly, struggling to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

"The night we stayed late to work," Percival responded slowly, sensing he had said something wrong, "she gave me a, um, breast massage because my chest was sore."

"I see," Newt said tightly. "You know, as a magizoologist, I've milked countless creatures. I'm certain I'd be just as good at massaging a human as the President apparently is."

"A-Are you jealous, Newt?" Percival asked in disbelief.

The redhead peeked up at the man in bed and stammered, "W-Well, yes. Yes, I am. I-I want to be allowed to touch you, too."

"Oh. Oh Newt, you need only ask," the other man replied, blushing pink. He was already unbuttoning his sleep shirt. 

"Percival, would you let me-" Newt began.

"Yes," Percival said, their eyes meeting in a meaningful look. He smirked and bared his chest. "Now show me those milking skills."

Newt immediately reached out to gently cup his breasts, his gaze hungry as it raked down the other's body. He gave them a light squeeze, eliciting a low moan. Consumed with desire, the redhead vanished the shirt completely to reveal more pale flesh for his exploration. Percival's chest was soft and malleable under his hands as he smoothed his palms over the tender flesh. Newt teased his nipples mercilessly with pinches and tweaks, and on the next squeeze, a milky fluid dribbled down the hills of his breasts. Percival gasped at the sensation, and moaned wantonly when Newt chased the trickles of milk with his tongue. 

"Mm, you taste delicious, love," Newt said between licks. "I suppose I can't blame Picquery for wanting to make you feel good."

He paused to glance up at the man's face from between the twin mounds of his chest. Percival's eyes were glazed with lust, and his cock was hardening quickly between them. 

"You really are too pretty to keep all to myself, Percival," Newt continued.

"I-I am?" the other man asked hoarsely. He looked down at his bloated, pregnant belly, saw the stretch marks and scars from his captivity, and couldn't help but disagree.

"Yes, of course, love," Newt said seriously. "Haven't you seen the way your entire department stares at your arse when you bend over someone's desk to check their work? They're all at least half in love with you, sweetheart." 

He paused to kiss his way down Percival's belly, feeling the baby moving beneath his lips. He continued down, only to be halted by reaching the waistband of a pair of pajama pants. Newt looked up again at his (yes,  _his_ ) lover, enjoying the sight of his usually pale face flushed with pleasure and excitement. 

"Percival, would you let me take these off too, please?" he asked carefully, understanding that that kind of intimacy was still difficult for the other man after all he'd been through. Percival nodded jerkily, letting Newt ease them off his hips with care. 

The redhead was pleasantly surprised to find a silky pair of scarlet red panties hiding under the baggy pants. 

"Oh, and what have we got here?" Newt teased, his eyes never leaving the delicate strip of fabric before him.

Percival blushed nearly to match the shade of his panties and hastened to explain, "I-It's not what you think! Queenie gave me a few pairs because she thought they'd be more comfortable for me!"

And she had been right. The silky fabric was smoother on his skin, and the stretch of the elastic straps accommodated his hips far better than the restrictive briefs he had used before. 

"It's perfectly alright if you like them, Percival. I, for one, think it's a lovely sight," Newt told him sincerely. "And I think you'd look even lovelier with a matching brassiere too, don't you think?" He reached up to pinch one of the other man's nipples playfully.

Percival keened from the praise and attention, his cock straining against the thin fabric of his panties.

"Oh, sweetheart," Newt cooed, and stroked him through the undergarment, "let me take care of that for you, alright?"

"Yes, yes please!" Percival cried, bucking his hips, and by extension, his heavy belly, up for more contact.

Newt ran his hands soothingly down the other's sides, hooking his fingers in the lacy straps of his panties. 

"Shh, love, too much excitement is bad for the baby, remember?" 

He slid Percival's last piece of clothing down ever so slowly, until his erection sprang free, butting against the underside of his pregnant belly. 

"We're just going to take it nice and slow, okay, Percy?" Newt said evenly, studying the other man's face for any sign of fear. 

Percival nodded, unable to speak past the emotion clogging his throat. 

The redhead descended, licking a long stripe from root to tip, then taking the head into his mouth and sucking gently. To his dismay, Percival choked out a sob when he began to suck in earnest, and Newt forced himself to pull off.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked and brought a hand up to wipe away the tears suddenly streaming down his lover's face. "Is it too much? Did I do something you didn't like?"

Percival shook his head frantically, and grasped Newt's hand on his face tightly. "No, no, y-you're amazing and kind and gentle, and I just can't believe that I have you," he cried tearfully, the hormones and overstimulation having reached a boiling point.

"Oh, love," Newt said, kissing his partner's tearstained cheek, "of course you have me. How could I resist when you're so strong and sweet and beautiful? You're even pretty when you cry, sweetheart."

The comment startled a laugh from the other man, and he craned his neck forward to kiss his lover properly. 

When they broke for air, Newt gestured towards the other's still impossibly hard cock and asked, "Now, do you want me to continue taking care of you?"

"Yes, please."

Newt took his member deep into his throat in one go, swallowing past his gag reflex. Percival moaned loudly in pleasure, tears forgotten in the heat of passion. The redhead pulled off slightly to lavish the head and slit with his tongue, swelling with pride that he was the one eliciting those sinful sounds from Percival's mouth. As adverse to intimacy and untouched as Percival had been the past few months, his orgasm took him by surprise, and he didn't have time to warn Newt before his come was shooting down the Brit's throat. Newt, undeterred, swallowed every last drop and sucked Percival's softening cock clean before tucking him back into his red panties.  

Despite Newt's intention of taking it slow, Percival was left panting in the wake of his climax, his belly heaving in time with his breaths. He opened his eyes, long lashes still clumped with tears, and zeroed in on the obvious bulge in Newt's pants. 

"You didn't come yet," he said, struggling to push himself upright. "Let me return the favor."

Newt laughed and gently nudged him back to lie against the pillows. "So generous and considerate, you really will make an excellent daddy, Percival. But don't worry about me, tonight was about making  _you_  feel good, love. And I had plenty of fun too, of course."

"O-Okay, but after I have the baby, you better fuck me properly, Scamander," Percival said pointedly.

Newt heard the question underlying the flirtatious response.  _Will you still be here after?_   

"Oh darling, Mummy's going to fuck you so good, you'll feel positively empty without my cock up your ass," he responded huskily.

"Y-You want to be my baby's Mummy?" Percival asked, eyes wide with surprise. His hands unconsciously moved to rest protectively over his round belly.

"Of course, love. But only if you want me to," Newt said sincerely, cocking his head to study the other man's expression. 

"I-I couldn't ask that of you," Percival said uncertainly.

"You're not asking, sweetheart, I'm offering," the redhead assured him, kissing the corner of his eye where tears had begun to well again.

Percival let out a sob, so relieved as he was that Newt returned his feelings. He pressed his face against Newt's thigh, still clothed in his tweed pants, in an attempt to muffle the sobs. He still wasn't used to all these emotions that the pregnancy brought out in him.

Newt quickly pulled the covers up over them both and laid down beside his lover, holding him close to his chest.

"It's alright, Percival, we don't have to talk about this now," he told the crying man in his arms. He felt terrible for making him cry, and pressed apologetic kisses to the top of Percival's head.

"N-No, it's not that," the dark-haired man said, voice muffled from where his face was pressed to Newt's collarbone. "I'm j-just so happy, Newt."

"Oh, sweetheart," Newt exhaled in relief. "So you want me to stay?"

Percival raised his head to look his lover in the eyes, tears still running down his cheeks. "Yes Newt, please. Please stay and take care of us."  Newt thumbed away the tears and whispered sweetly, "Of course I will, Percival. I promise you." 

He kissed Percival chastely on the lips, and reached between them to rub a gentle hand over the taut skin of his pregnant belly.

"I promise you both." 


End file.
